


Close Quarters

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Close Quarters [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 23:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13845492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Agreeing to let Luke bunk with him comes back to bite Han in the ass, as it only makes it harder to ignore everything he felt sharing a shelter with him out in the snow.





	Close Quarters

Han half-convinced himself Luke would find someone else to bunk with and not even come back after washing. But that didn’t stop him from hastily shoving things away so the room wasn't so much of a mess. Until he realised what he was doing, and pulled it all back out again. Losing his head over a stupid kid. Chewie would never let him hear the end of it. 

He didn’t even have that many things that weren’t on the Falcon, so the gesture seemed even more ridiculous. Hell, normally he would sleep on the falcon, but with everything on the fritz after their last mission, he wasn’t so proud that he wouldn’t take advantage of the slightly more reliable heating in the base.

It hadn’t even been hard to argue his way into a room of his own. Leia had just snorted that no one else would want to share a room with him and sorted it out with minimal manipulation on Han’s part. His room was little more than a storage closet, with a tiny bunk bed built into the wall, but it had heating, and that was enough for him on this frozen over hell of a planet.

From his position sitting at the end of the bed, he looked over the width of the thin mattress. Agreeing to let Luke bunk with him was going to come back and bite in the ass for sure. It would be a tight squeeze, just like it had been in that tiny shelter he’d built them out in the snow.

It had been necessary then, they’d needed to share body heat to survive, and pressing close while surrounded by the smell of tauntaun innards had prevented any wayward thoughts. It hadn’t stopped him from pleading with Luke to live, when his breathing had slowed in the middle of the night, and his pulse had been barely discernible beneath freezing skin.

Feeling heat creep into his cheeks, Han sprawled onto his back on the bunk and kicked the wall at the end. Stupid kid had grown on him faster than anyone else had in his life. Too naive to survive out in space long, but a damn good pilot and gunner. He was getting better with that glow-stick too.

Who was Han kidding? The kid was more than capable, and had shown it already on more than enough missions for this doomed rebellion. But he was far too young for Han to be thinking half the things he was thinking. Or for him to be pleading so desperately into the freezing night for him to live. Not the way he had. Not with his voice breaking and tears pricking his eyes.

The whole situation had been a wake up call he hadn’t needed, and didn’t want.

The look Leia had given him after she’d kissed Luke made it damn clear she expected him to be jealous and put off her. Only, he’d been struggling with an entirely different form of jealousy and cursing himself to not noticing it creep up on him sooner. Damn kid.

When he finally came back from washing, Han would refuse him entry. He could go beg Leia to find other quarters with a free bed. Han already had her royal annoyance mocking him without end. He didn’t need to give her another reason in the form of Luke sensing any of  _ this _ from him and telling her. Who knew how that mystic Jedi crap worked? He didn’t want to risk finding out by snuggling up close in a small cot with him.

Nodding to himself, and feeling better for his decision, he glanced around the room and kicked the wall again. He’d redouble his efforts to fix the thermostat on the Falcon in the morning and shift back in. Then Luke could just have his room if Leia couldn’t find him another before they abandoned the base.

They were beginning evacuations anyway, soon enough he’d have to face the Falcon with or without the thermostat working.

 

* * *

Han wasn’t quite sure what woke him. His room was dark, he’d clearly fallen asleep. But he hadn’t turned the lights out, and there was hair tickling his face and a body pressing comfortably close.

It took a moment to comprehend what was happening, but then he growled softly. He’d have to have a word with her royal annoyance about teaching their farmboy some manners. He was lucky Han hadn’t woken up and killed him, sneaking in while he was asleep like that.

Which begged the question, why hadn’t Han woken up? He wasn’t one to sleep through someone crawling into his bed. He’d had to deal with that too often with overly friendly passengers. One good thing to come out of working with the rebellion, he supposed. Less unsavoury characters fouling up his ship. Which wasn’t something he’d ever say out loud to any of them.

But Luke must have shown up to find him sleeping and just decided that permission had already been given. The assumption made Han want to shove him right off the cot. But then he’d have to deal with that face staring up at him with betrayal, and he hadn’t slept enough for that nightmare. There could never be enough sleep to deal with  _ that _ expression from Luke.

“Presumptuous idiot of a farmboy,” he muttered under his breath, feeling a cramp in his leg and trying to stretch it out without bumping and waking Luke up. The cot was too small for two people, and the less they pressed together, the better.

“Big word. And I did try to wake you,” came a low mutter from beside him.

Han jerked the leg he was trying to stretch and kicked the wall. “Oh, you’re awake, are you?” he muttered. “How about you try harder next time instead of just crawling into bed with me? I should kick you out of here right now, you ungrateful brat!”

There was a rustle, and Han realised Luke had turned around to face him. He could feel Luke’s knees bump his legs, before Luke just tangled his legs between Han’s without a care in the world. The boldness of the action made Han fail to think of an insult, as he realised again that he should not have agreed to this.

“You swore at me, rolled over, and then told me to do what I liked, ‘cause you couldn’t be bothered dealing with me,” Luke said sleepily, sounding amused.

Han was less amused, as he felt warmth of Luke’s breath on his face. At least the brat had brushed his teeth, he supposed. He had no memory of Luke waking him, and wasn’t sure he believed it. He wasn’t normally so relaxed around anyone other than Chewie when he was trying to sleep.

Then again, it  _ was _ Luke, who might be great in a battle, but completely harmless the rest of the time.

Or, the less welcome thought, Han was now too aware of the thrum of attachment that had developed towards him, and his subconscious had just accepted Luke’s presence as welcome.

But he really preferred the idea that Luke was too harmless to be a threat.

“Well, don’t get used to this,” Han groused, starting to feel uncomfortable with his arms tucked in by his chest. He could feel the faintest brush of Luke’s clothes against them and he was sure it was making the hairs on his arm stand on end.

“Just one night, I remember,” Luke said, still sounding amused.

“Good. Shut up and go to sleep then.”

“You know what else I remember?” Luke asked.

Han groaned. Chatty in bed, just what he needed right now as he was trying to ignore just how close they were, which was so much harder than when they’d both smelled like dead tauntaun guts and Luke had been dying.

“That I’m still a better shot than you are at deflecting with that fancy light stick of yours?”

“Something along the lines of ‘not how I pictured getting you into bed with me, kid’,” Luke said. “Followed by increasingly more desperate attempts to provoke a response from me. Culminating in something along the lines of ‘don’t know what I’ll do if you die, Luke’ and a few curses. And something about Leia doing something horrible to you, but that bit is fuzzy.”

Han tensed. “Funny. But the middle of the night isn’t the time for jokes.”

Luke didn’t say anything at first, but then there was a soft touch to Han’s shoulder that sent shivers erupting over him.

“I didn’t know you were religious, Han,” Luke said quietly. “You were praying to some gods at one point. I’ve never heard prayers like that before. I couldn’t move or speak, but I could still hear you. I was awake, most of the time.”

Han cringed, and was glad it was too dark to see each other. So much for Luke being too out of it to remember anything. The last thing he wanted was anyone to know just how desperate he’d been when Luke had almost died. He’d been to enough worlds, met enough people, that he knew more prayers than one could ever hope for. But he’d never thought he’d ever use any of them.

Maybe he’d been delirious from the cold too. Or the sudden realisation of just how much the kid meant to him. Something that had been creeping up on him for a while, probably. But he was nothing if not an expert at avoiding the things that he didn’t want to face about himself. Focusing on Leia, where he had no hope of actually getting anywhere, was just easier than confronting an attraction towards Luke.

“Didn’t anyone teach you that hypothermia gives you hallucinations, kid? You were delirious. You were talking to Ben half the time.” The urge to push Luke off the cot was almost getting to strong to resist. “And think about who you’re talking to. I don’t believe in anything but getting paid.”

Luke snorted softly. “Alright, Han. Have it your way,” he said, before suddenly shifting again.

He must have turned to face away again, as Han could feel the pads of his feet pressing against his shins. He must have been right on the edge of the cot to be keeping the rest of his body away from Han.

“They were beautiful prayers though,” Luke murmured a few moments later. “They were very comforting to listen to.”

Han said nothing, frozen in place as Luke shifted again, away from the edge of the cot and closer to Han, until his back was brushing Han’s chest, and trapping his arms between them. 

Silence enveloped them, and all Han could hear was their breathing. Luke shifted his legs a bit, and one of his feet slid along Han’s shin. It made him shiver and clench his hands into fists between them.

Luke had been absolutely right. Half-dead and covered in tauntaun innards had not been what Han had pictured when he’d once, offhand, thought about getting Luke into bed. This was much more like it. But back then it had been so easy to brush the thought off as Luke being too attractive for his own good, and Han being too busy with missions to blow off steam. Everyone looked more attractive at times like that. Those kinds of thoughts never meant anything.

But one night out in a blizzard had cured him of that notion.

“Or maybe that was just your voice.” It was barely a whisper, and Han wanted to pretend he didn’t hear it. But Luke probably knew he was still awake.

He pretended to be asleep anyway.

 

* * *

“Wake the hell up, kid!”

Luke made an angry sound and pressed closer to Han. They’d turned in the night again, and now Luke’s legs were twisted around Han’s, and his face was pressing to his chest, head under his chin. He’d wormed one hand under Han’s shirt to spread his fingers over Han’s shoulder blade, and Han was having a crisis.

“Five more minutes,” Luke mumbled, rubbing his face against Han’s chest as if trying to burrow into a pillow.

Han’s heart was hammering away in his chest fast enough that Luke would probably notice soon, and he was pressed right up against the wall, so there was no escape. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d woken up so wrapped up in another person. Aside from out in their shelter in the snow, curled around Luke and uttering thanks to gods he didn’t even believe in when he found Luke was warmer in the morning, and his pulse steady. 

Han really didn’t need to face this position without the stench of dead tauntaun. In fact, he needed to go find Chewie before Chewie found him. With the base beginning evacuations, they both needed to work on getting the Falcon in better shape. If he didn’t show up soon, Chewie would come looking for him, growling about having to do all the work himself. 

The last thing he needed was the Wookiee seeing him in bed with the kid. He’d never hear the end of it, and he was beginning to suspect that Luke understood more Shyriiwook than he let on.

Looking past Luke, and around the room, he tried to formulate a plan to get free before he embarrassed himself. The way Luke was pressed against him was certainly sending some heat south. His face felt plenty hot too. 

He didn’t need a distraction like this with the base evacuating. He just needed to get the Falcon fully functional again and get somewhere secluded to think over that night in the blizzard a little more. If there was a way to categorise his desperation as anything other than feelings he couldn’t afford to have, he’d find it. He always did. He just had to get away from Luke to do that.

“Kid, I am not above pushing you off this bunk,” he said firmly, managing to untangle one of his arms, and give Luke’s shoulder a rough shake.

With a low groan that sounded less like annoyance and more like something else to Han’s distracted mind, Luke freed one of his own arms and swatted at Han’s hand. But a moment later, he rolled onto his back, his legs untangling from Han’s to finally give him some breathing room.

Still pressed up against the wall, Han considered crawling over him to get off the bunk, but then Luke turned his head towards him and opened his eyes.

Stupid kid, and his stupid face. Soft and sleepy. Han felt that tug behind his sternum that told he was in serious trouble. Re-categorising that night in the blizzard was going to take a lot more work than it had a few moments ago.

“What’s your rush?” Luke mumbled.

Han swallowed heavily. “Did you miss the memo, kid? The base is evacuating, the Empire is on the way, and the Falcon is still suffering from that stunt I had to pull to save your ass on that last mission.”

The sleepy ease on Luke’s face vanished, a tense expression replacing it. He sat up. “There’s never enough time,” he muttered, rubbing at his face and then getting up.

“For what?” Han joked. “Sleep? There’ll be plenty of time for sleep when we’re dead. Probably won’t be long until then either. Throwing our lot in with a doomed rebellion.”

Luke looked at him sharply. “No one’s forcing you to stay. You have your money, you can go rid yourself of that bounty and be a free man any time.”

Han shuffled off the bed and found his feet, pointing sharply at Luke. “Oh, I’m going, kid. You and Leia can have your merry little rebellion together without me.”

Luke scoffed. “You’ve been saying that since we blew up the Death Star, but you’re still here. When are you going to admit that you’re one of us? That you care about the cause?”

“When this hell of a planet melts,” Han snapped. “I care about a job done and the credits at the end. That’s it.”

Luke’s expression hardened. “Yeah? That’s why you were praying to a dozen different gods that I wouldn’t die out there in the snow, was it? Caring about a job?”

Han’s stomach lurched, and he could feel that familiar panic rising. The kind of panic he didn’t feel often, but which usually came from giving too much away and fleeing a system as though it could leave the ache in his chest behind with the person who’d caused it.

“Maybe you should report back to medbay for those delusions of yours,” he snapped.

Even if Chewie was sure to remark on the smell, he was glad he’d fallen asleep in his clothes, as it allowed him to leave before the conversation could go any further. Although, halfway down the hallway, his face started feeling hot when he realised he’d just retreated from his own quarters.

Damn kid.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, I gave them another go... left it totally open, but it felt done there. If I ever do more (and I probably won't so please don't ask me to, I'll get there on my own if I do) it'll be added as another part in the little series I made to connect these two pieces. 
> 
> It's totally open, but I dunno, I love the missed opportunities vibe to it. Han is an idiot and Luke was too subtle (even though he was really not that subtle. Han you idiot, un-repress your emotions!)


End file.
